


Exactly What You Wished For

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Mage/Familiar AU, mild asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: [He had researched thoroughly the most powerful of familiars.  Usually, it was expected to summon a familiar of low magical standing.  Fairies and elves were usually good first timers, then as the mage grew more experienced, they could summon more powerful familiars, ones that specifically catered to the magic they harnessed.  Keith had tried them all.  Fairies, goblins, centaurs, even a unicorn.  Dragons were considered to be the most powerful of familiars, and yet still none of them had been powerful enough for Keith.Keith needed something unheard of, untouched, something otherworldly.  He needed something from the depths of the darkness, the farthest of reaches in which only the most powerful of mages dared to trespass upon.He needed a daemon.]Keith, a powerful mage, needs a powerful familiar, yet accidentally summons an incubus as a result.





	Exactly What You Wished For

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for phinamin on twitter!
> 
> This was an amazingly fun idea to explore and write! Thank you so much for the opportunity to create this work!

The moon was high in the sky, warning of an hour fast approaching.  Candles flickered from almost every flat surface in the room, golden light casting an iridescent glow in the room. The circle, and all it’s intended symbols, drawn so meticulously on the floor in chalk.  The gems that were placed ever so precisely around it, lit up as the candlelight caught their infinite number of sides.  All was as it should be, and when the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed on the hour, Keith felt a familiar energy stir within him.

Two o’clock in the morning.  Witching hour.

“This better work,” Keith muttered to himself, looking down once again at his work.

If there was ever a summoning circle more perfect, more precise, more delicately crafted to its planned purpose, Keith would like to see it.  He stood there, arms crossed, letting the magical energy now building stir throughout him, becoming one with the symbols on the floor and the elements placed on each corner.  Carefully, he pulled a pouch from his belt, and dropped it into the middle of the circle.  The gold coins rang as they hit the floor, heavy in their worth.

He then picked up the book that had been lying on the love seat beside him.  His eyes darted between the chart on the parchment and his own replicant of it, double and triple checking his work.  It’s only a precaution at this point, as Keith has performed this ritual dozens of times in the past.  Still, all magic is dangerous, and is not to be taken lightly.  A lesson he never let himself forget since his late tutor had helped him perform this ritual the first time. 

Then again, he wouldn’t have had to perform this ritual so many times, if the first had gone as well as to be expected.

Keith ground his teeth at the memory, and reminded himself that was not his fault.  It was not his lack of study, or even his own lacking (at the time) magical ability, that had caused that fae to explode in the way it had only two weeks later.  The ritual itself had been perfect.  His tutor had praised him endlessly for performing so well his first time, yet explained it away like ordering bread at the bakery.

You can ask for a particular type of bread, be specific as you like with what kind, but sometimes you’ll still be handed something stale, something unworthy. 

It was the same, his tutor had said, with summoning familiars.

Keith came from a long line of mages.  Generation after generation of magical blood poured from one infant to the next, accumulating all their knowledge and worth and prowress into their prodigy child.  Keith had accepted this like he accepted his hair was dark, or that he was physically male; a simple fact of nature.  However, such a bloodline came at a price, because as powerful as the mage is, the familiar must match that power, or perish.

The amount of mana flowing through Keith was white hot as his temper, and was not for the faint of familiar.  His first, a tiny little pixy that, although was maybe slightly too positive for Keith’s liking, listened to orders well and was easy for Keith to harness his magic through.  Best of all, it took simple berries as payment.  With the forest of wild berries that grew behind Keith’s family home, its payment had been a simple matter.

It hadn’t been enough.

Keith can still remember the shrieking.  The smell of burning flesh.  The flash of something unexpected and horrifying as his familiar had burnt alive before his very eyes, too much mana coursing through its tiny body, rendering its flesh catatonic.  Keith had been sad for as long as he had been allowed, then had simply performed the ritual again the next day.

Still, for a ten-year-old child, it had been something traumatic.  Something life changing.  He had never felt quite the same ever since.  That day had taught him that sometimes, being as powerful as his family was, as powerful as they had made him, was not always a good thing and, in fact, could be outright dangerous.

It had continued like that for years.  Every familiar Keith summoned either left, disappeared, or perished under his power.  His parents never scolded him, in fact, saw it as something to be rewarded, yet Keith thought differently.  He began to summon them less and less, even if it meant going long periods of time without one.  It wasn’t exactly impossible to spend his magical career without a familiar, but it was sorely frowned upon. 

Without a familiar, he had nothing to channel his magical energy through, keep his chakras balanced and in line down his body.  Nothing to strengthen his spell-casting, no one to perform rituals with that were in need of several magical beings to perform correctly.  No conduit for his magical power.  It was hard, he will admit, but at the expense of not having _another_ magical creature leave him, or die by his hands, it was a necessity.

Tonight, however, tonight would be different.

He had researched thoroughly the most powerful of familiars.  Usually, it was expected to summon a familiar of low magical standing.  Fairies and elves were usually good first timers, then as the mage grew more experienced, they could summon more powerful familiars, ones that specifically catered to the magic they harnessed.  Keith had tried them all.  Fairies, goblins, centaurs, even a unicorn.  Dragons were considered to be the most powerful of familiars, and yet still none of them had been powerful enough for Keith.

Keith needed something unheard of, untouched, something otherworldly.  He needed something from the depths of the darkness, the farthest of reaches in which only the most powerful of mages dared to trespass upon. 

He needed a daemon.

Daemons, however, were not known for complying so easily to being a mages’ familiar, or servant, as they saw it.  It said nowhere, in no text Keith could find, what they were paid in order to serve the magical class.  So, Keith had taken it upon himself to have several things at the ready.  He had jewels, gold, the most likely of worldly possessions that would feed a creature born of contempt and greed, but he also had texts, knowledge, access to power.  Then, in a freezer in the kitchen, a heart. 

It was only a lamb’s heart, and Keith had vomited on himself upon precuring it, enough that he prayed he would not have to use it.  If the daemon wished for anything more valuable than flesh, Keith would have to offer himself, and figure out along the way how he would keep paying his new familiar such a high price.

Yet, that was the goal.  The heftier the fee, the more it weighed upon the mages soul, the more powerful a familiar could be summoned, and Keith needed the most powerful he could buy.

Keith slammed the book shut, content that he had done everything perfectly, and threw the book back onto the couch.  Out of his breast pocket, he drew a long chain, a shining jewel attached to the end.  This ancient medallion was a priceless Kogane family heirloom, and had been the catalyst for so many powerful spells cast by his family members.  Now, it would be the conduit for himself and his familiar.  It was the only item he considered powerful enough to tie such a powerful creature to this realm.  Carefully, Keith placed the medallion on the very top of the mound of treasure, its place clear amongst the organised chaos.

He took his place over the circle, eyeing the mound of monotal value in the middle, the glinting ruby, red jewel winking up at him from its darkened holster, and took a deep breath.  It was now or never, he supposed, taking out the knife he kept on himself at all times.  A tool, as well as a precaution, Keith used the very tip to pierce his skin, wincing only minutely, and held his hand over the very middle of the summoning circle, letting his blood form from the cut and fall in a thick drop onto the medallion’s very centre.

There was a rush of wind despite there being no open window, and Keith began the spell.

“Creature born of darkness and sin, of everlasting immorals and immortal corruptions, heed my words and venture from your resting place in hell to stand by my side and serve my intentions.”  Keith’s voice was steady, firm.  He wasn’t nervous, he told himself, again and again, as he continued the chant.  He continued to let mana flow through his body, into the summoning circle, bringing forth the spell he cast.

His robes billowed around his form, the lines on the flaw glowing with a piercing red light.  The wind shifted, causing his hair to hit him in the face, but he dared not stop the spell.  The objects around him lifted from their places, books and paper hung in the air.  Glasses and vials teetered where they floated.  The air grew thick, a musty smell filling his senses.  The glow only intensified, hurting Keith’s eyes as he was forced to gaze upon it.

Through it all, he did not stop.  Wouldn’t stop.  If he couldn’t last through this, he would never be able to control a familiar such as a daemon. 

“Awaken from your mindscape!  Keep me within your thoughts!  Be by my side, your deepest desires fixed as payment for your services!” Keith’s throat was growing sore as he was forced to shout over the roaring winds.  “I release you from you chambers!  Heed this contract!  Awaken!”

With a final shout, a last push of mana, the entire room was engulfed in the red light.  Keith was forced to shut his eyes, the room becoming so hot he could feel his skin burning.  The wind so fierce, it could cut his skin. 

Then, as if nothing had happened at all, everything went still. 

The room cooled, leaving Keith almost shivering.  All the candles had been extinguished.  Through it all, Keith hadn’t heard his books thud to the floor, or his potions shatter all over his desk and workbench; it would be one hell of a clean-up.  Keith knelt, panting, feeling as though he had run non-stop for an entire week.  His heart hammered in his chest and sweat formed on his brow.

“Did it work?” he asked himself, peering through the darkness.

As his eyes slowly adjusted, he could see movement in the place of his summoning circle.  A shadow formed, large and domineering.  Slowly, Keith began to see the form in the creature.  Chords of muscle covered a large torso.  Horns protruding from the creatures’ head.  A tail waved, and the creature only seemed to grow as he stood to his fullest height. 

Keith forced himself to stand, as weak as he was, stumbling slightly as he managed to get to his feet. 

He rose a hand, pumping what little mana he could throughout the room.  The candles flickered to life, the room bathed in a yellow light as shadows danced along the walls and ceiling.  It was then that Keith first laid eyes on him.

He was just as large as his shadow had suggested, towering above Keith even from a distance.  Just as fierce as to be expected.  Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of him.  Off the broad shoulders, the cropped hair, the piercing, gold eyes.  His arms were thick with muscle, his right one black as coal.  Cursed.  Claws protruded from his fingertips.  Intimidation came from his lack of clothing, barely clad in anything except a few strips of leather placed carefully over his most intimate of places.

The creature turned to Keith, a scowl worn on his features.  When he opened his mouth to speak, Keith could see how large his canines were, and a shiver ran down his spine at the sight.

He fixed Keith with a look, one of anger and malicious intent.  Keith swallowed.

“Who the fuck are you?” the creature said.  No, demanded.  His voice was rough, deep, and commanding.  Keith could feel the power from his simple question, and felt a sense of pride begin to trickle through his veins.

He had done it.

Keith made sure to fix his posture before clearing his throat.

“I am the latest descendant of the Kogane family line, the heir to the fortune of possessions, gold and power.  I am the most powerful mage that has been produced, the…”

“I don’t give a shit.”  Keith felt his body still with shock.  The creature stepped from the circle, his size becoming even more obvious, lowering his head so he was almost pressing their noses together.  “I asked: who. The. Fuck. Are. You.”  Each word was punctuated with a pointed nail into the centre of Keith’s chest, such force behind the gesture, it almost toppled Keith to the floor.

Keith was shaken.  “M-my name is Keith!” He managed to speak despite his slowly building dread.  Maintain focus, he reminded himself.  Don’t show weakness.  This thing is supposed to serve you, but it won’t yield to a weak mage.  “Keith Kogane!  I’m a mage, and you are to be my familiar.”

The creature’s glowing eyes widened at the statement, his mouth falling.  He took a step back, gazing at Keith.  Slowly, his eyebrows lowered, shock and confusion taking place of anger and irritation.  Keith stood his ground, knowing that these next few moments would be the ultimate decider of their relationship in the future.

“I’m your what now?” The creature had obviously not been expecting that.

“My familiar,” Keith said again.  “You will provide me with mana and magical energy.  You will be a conduit for my spell casting and future summons.  You will-“

Keith didn’t get to finish his sentence before a large hand wrapped around his throat and his feet left the floor.  Keith’s nails dug into the cursed hand of the creature, his entire body freezing with a fight or flight instinct.  Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he gasped for air.  He was brought forward so he was forced to look into the eyes of the creature; of the beast.

“I will be no mage’s little bitch!” Spit flew from the creature’s mouth, stinging Keith’s face.  “However you brought me here, whatever you did to rip me from my home, you will pay dearly, and I can tell you now: I will not be subjected to your infantile slavery.”

Keith was dropped.  He landed unceremoniously in a pile at the thing’s feet, gasping and coughing for air, holding his now bruised throat and carefully avoiding where the creature’s nails had cut his skin.  As he regained his composure, Keith finally understood why daemons were never summoned as familiars.  Yet, Keith was a focused individual, something he had inherited from his mother, and would not be deterred by a stubborn daemon in his home.

“You!” Keith coughed and spluttered some more, forcing himself to his feet.  “You have no choice!  See that medallion around your neck?  That binds you to me!”

It’s then that the creature looked down, noticing the black chain fixed around his neck, finishing at the jewel placed square in the middle of his chest.  His eyebrows raised at it, and a large hand encompassed the jewel as he tugged on the chain.  It did not break.  He tried again, but no such luck.  Keith can see the frustration growing as the daemon tugged every which way, attempting to snap the metal that should be so fragile to his utter physical strength.  When it didn’t leave its place around his neck either, he fixed his frustrations on Keith, barrelling toward him and using is height to instigate fear into Keith’s heart.

Keith blocked the emotion out, meeting the creature’s eyes, refusing to back down.

“What the fuck is this thing?  Get it off me!”

Keith allowed himself a victorious smile, finally getting his point across.  “No.”

The creature growled, and moved his hand, aiming it at Keith’s throat again.  This time, Keith was ready, and held up an arm.  The out-press of mana in his forearm caused the daemon’s hand to fling back, bouncing off Keith’s arm as if it were a pillow.  Keith considered himself lucky, however, as any more force behind that blow and it would have plowed right through his protective spell.

The throbbing in his arm was telling, yet Keith almost found rejoice in it.  It proved how powerful this new familiar was, and gave Keith confidence that he may have finally found someone worthy of his lineage.

“You!” the creature glared threateningly.  “Get this off me.  Now!”

Keith took a deep breath, and decided to play his last card in getting this daemon to listen to him.

“No,” he repeated, voice firm, despite how sore his body was.  The daemon had been here all of four minutes and already he had taken a savage beating from him.  “The only way that medallion will come off is if I am the one to remove it.  Even if you kill me, that medallion will remain fixed to your soul for all eternity.”

The creature huffed, steam seeming to come from his flared nostrils, irritated at having his intentions read before they could be voiced.

“What soul?” The creature muttered. 

Keith took this as another victory, the creature realising there was little chance of escape.  The daemon’s shoulders slumped, now tired and dejected, moving over to the couch aforementioned and allowed his entire mass to fall onto the cushions.  He spread himself out, getting comfortable, arms resting across the back, knees spread, his neck careening so he was looking at the ceiling as he rested. 

Keith felt most of the tension drain from the room.  Finally, at least, things had settled down, and Keith could begin their work as mage and familiar.  While the daemon seemed to let his body seep into the comfort of Keith’s loveseat, Keith took the time to get a good look at him.  If anything, he screamed power.  His body thick with muscle, his voice a deep baratone, his eyes that glowing gold and his glare that froze hearts.  One thigh was almost as thick as Keith’s entire torso.  He was intimidating to say the least, something Keith was thankful for, and he tried to still his racing heart as he continued to look over the daemon’s chiselled chest. 

He told himself he was merely studying his familiar’s form, not totally checking him out.

Despite the bruises blossoming over Keith’s body thanks to the daemon, Keith was almost thankful for them.  If anything, this meant the daemon was truly as powerful as Keith had hoped he would be, and Keith’s summoning ritual had been an unmitigated success.  Hopefully, this was the last time he’d have to perform it.

“I can’t believe I got collared by this twink of a mage,” the daemon was muttering.  Keith felt his cheeks go red with anger. 

“I’m no twink!” Keith insisted, strolling over so he could look down on the daemon.  When he sat, the only time Keith would ever be taller than him.  Even then, it was only by a few inches. 

The daemon lifted his head and gave Keith a petulant look.

“If killing you wasn’t going to render me completely useless, I could snap you like a toothpick,” the daemon said.  Keith shuddered at the threat.

“Well, physical strength has nothing to do with a mage’s magical strength,” Keith crossed his arms, miffed that this daemon would think low of him just because he was considered small.  “When you start work for me, I think you’ll find I’m more than strong enough, as a mage, to handle my own.  I summoned you, didn’t I?”

The daemon continued to stare at Keith, almost bored now, an irritated growl sounding from his throat.

“At least you’re cute.”

Keith turned red for a different reason now.  “Wh-what has that got to do with anything!?”

The daemon sneered.  “I’m not taking payment from a mage that looks like his face was flattened and he somehow survived.  If I have to work for you, at least you’ll be a good lay.”

Keith felt his core light on fire at the daemon’s words.  “E-excuse me?  L-lay?  What is that supposed to mean?”  Keith, trying as he might to keep some of his remaining dignity, took a step away from the daemon, squaring his shoulders.  “You won’t touch me without my consent!”

The daemon, for some reason, seemed to find this amusing.  He laughed, threw his head back and let it rumble through his chest and out past his fangs.  Keith gritted his teeth, trying to will the flush on his cheeks to recede.  When he stopped, his glowing eyes met Keith’s, now filled with mirth.  His lips stretched into a wide, smug and mischievous smile that made Keith shake where he stood.

“Oh, honey,” he spoke, the tone purely condescending.  Keith hissed.  “You have no idea what kind of daemon I am, do you?”

Keith was beginning to feel the fear he had done so well in ignoring begin to freeze his heart, the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to rise. 

“Kind of daemon?  There’s only one kind!” But even as Keith said it, he could feel how very wrong he had been, especially as the daemon’s smile only twisted further upon his face.

“For someone who claims he’s such an experienced mage, you sure know jack shit about the creature you spent so much mana on summoning.”

Suddenly, Keith was being pulled closer to the daemon, unsure where the sudden grip on his waist had come from.  Keith now stood between his legs, having to hold onto his shoulders in order to keep upright without totally toppling into the daemon’s lap.  The daemon grinned up at Keith, fangs glinting in the still flickering candle light.  Fingers splayed across his ass, sliding up under his tunic and spreading his cheeks through his underwear.

Keith squirmed, panicking, attempting to pull away.

“Let me go, you brute!” Keith attempted to hit the daemon on the shoulder, yet the daemon didn’t so much as flinch at the smack of skin on skin.  “I’m not your plaything!”

The daemon used his free clawed hand, the one not digging into the clefts of Keith’s ass, to grip Keith’s chin.  A thumb and forefinger pressed on the hinges of Keith’s jaw, so he couldn’t struggle, couldn’t look away from those glowing, golden eyes.

“I think you’ll find, sweetheart, that’s exactly what you are.”

Keith really did shiver this time.  The daemon seemed to find that amusing, tightening his grip around Keith’s ass cheek and eliciting a whine from his throat.  Embarrassed, Keith wondered where that had possibly come from.  Why there seemed to be a sudden fire lighting in his gut, making the daemon’s touches seem almost pleasurable?

Snap out of it, Keith thought.  He’s playing you!

“What are you?” Keith tried, wanting answers, but also wanting to distract the daemon from creeping his hand anywhere nearer to its intended target.  Yet, Keith could feel himself wanting that.  Wanting those thick fingers to rip his tights, breach his underwear, and sink so deep into him he forgot which way was up.  Keith flushed harder at the thought, chastising himself for thinking so lewdly of someone who was supposed to be his inferior.

The daemon didn’t answer.  He only continued to smile smugly up at Keith, before using the hand clenched around Keith’s jaw to bring him closer, sealing their lips together in a hot, wet, bruising kiss.  Keith had every intention of hitting the daemon for even daring to think he could be used like that, yet it all melted away as soon as their lips touched.

Without even realising, Keith’s body collapsed.  He wanted to say he was tired, and that the sudden rush of endorphins and emotions, coupled with the confusion he still felt, had caused him to collapse into the lap of his newly summoned familiar.  That it was pure exhaustion that caused him to place his knees either side of those chiselled thighs, settling comfortably, deepening the kiss and keening as the daemon’s touches grew desperate and sweltering even over Keith’s clothes.

He knew himself well enough that it had nothing to do with any of that, and it was only horniness and sudden loss of self-control that had him making out with his familiar, already growing embarrassingly hard in his pants.  As their tongues melded, as their lips glossed over with shared spit, as the daemon used his strength to push their hips together, making Keith go cross-eyed at the sparks that flew through his dick, Keith began to put the puzzle pieces together.  He began to figure out exactly what kind of creature he had summoned, under the guise of having summoned a daemon.

Their lips parted.  Keith was panting, saliva dribbling down his chin as he locked eyes with the _thing_ he was sprawled on top of.  “You’re an incubus.”

The daemon gave Keith another malicious grin.

“That’s right, Babydoll, and you’re about to put a down payment on my services.  Seeing as we’ll be working together so long as this medallion stays around my neck which, as I recall you saying, was for all eternity.”

Now that their lips were no longer connected, Keith could feel his mind clearing, coming back to himself.  He realised the position he was in, and weakly attempted to clamber off of the daemon’s lap, but even if he hadn’t used up all his mana only minutes before and was at his full strength, the daemon was infinitely stronger than Keith was, and Keith was going nowhere.

“I’m not paying you with sex!” Keith declared, rearing his head back so he could glare at the daemon in the eyes.  His self-control was still at almost zero, but he’d fight through this daemons’ influence until the very last possible moment if he had too, their glaring differences in physical stature be damned.

The daemon laughed, loud and deep, just like before.  Keith ignored how much it turned him on.

“Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you promised?” His words were full of nothing but condescension, yet Keith could detect no edge of deception within them.  Then, to Keith’s utmost horror, his own words were chanted back at him while the daemon gazed defiantly back into his eyes.  “’Awaken from your mindscape.  Keep me within your thoughts.  Be by my side, _your deepest desires fixed as payment for your services_ ’.”

Keith’s entire body froze, even fixed as it was so deeply in his familiar’s hold.  He _had_ said that.  He remembered it so clearly as it was the specific spell he had formed himself in order to summon a daemon from the depths of the dark, magical realm.  He had recited it as practice so many times over the past weeks, it felt like it was permanently etched on his skin like a rune.  There was no denying it.

Keith couldn’t even argue that he had intended for the daemon to be paid with money, knowledge, or even blood.  That wasn’t the terms he had set.  He had so clearly stated it was up to the daemon to set the terms of payment, like a fool.

Leave it up to a daemon to find a loophole in an otherwise binding covenant.

The daemon drew their lips closer once again, hot breath fanning over Keith’s already flushed features.  Keith found himself having to stave off the desire to give in, to melt into the daemon’s touches and give him all he was asking for.  Keith’s fingers tightened where they still clasped over the daemon’s shoulders.  His noises became small, stuck in the back of his throat as they were, still trying to make up his mind on how he felt about this development.

The daemon moved his lips to Keith’s throat, pressing moist and hot kisses along the thin and pale skin.  Keith’s breath hitched, his hips driving downwards.  The growing erection in his pants meeting the daemon’s own bulge, hot and large, making Keith imagine what it would be like to take the daemon’s girth somewhere else into his body.  He shivered in the daemon’s lap.

“You know you want this,” the voice against his skin was deep and soothing.  Keith’s mind was swimming as he tried to pick his way out of the hormone-induced fog this daemon seemed to be covering him in.  “You know you want me to pry you apart, let you fall on my fingers before I let you fall on my cock.”

Keith felt his entire face light up in embarrassment.  He struggled again, but he knew his movements were growing weaker and weaker as the daemon’s fingers played along his back, one hand still pressing so firmly into the seem of his ass.  Keith’s breath came quick and hot, those sinful lips still creating sucking kisses along the column of his throat.  Keith didn’t want to give in entirely, didn’t want to give this daemon the satisfaction of knowing he had been played and played well, but couldn’t fight off the haze entirely.  He couldn’t find his way out, and slowly found himself accepting the fact that he didn’t want to either.

Sharp teeth grazed the vein in his throat.  Keith’s fingers wound into the short hairs on the back of the daemon’s head. 

“Give in.  Give in and I’ll give you all the mana you want.  I can already feel your ass would be _so tight_.  I might not mind being a mage’s bitch after all.” Keith ground down against the daemon’s crotch once again, hoping it would bring enough satisfaction to snap him out of it, yet it only seemed to draw him in deeper.  Sparks flew up his spine, flashing behind his eyelids.  “You want it.  I bet you’ve never had a cock as big as mine.  Never been used like I’ll use you every day.”  A clawed hand cupped Keith between his legs, palming at his now solid, hot and fully hard dick.  Keith’s voice was almost entirely gone, except for the high-pitched mewl that the daemon managed to wrangle from between his lips.  “I’m an incubus, but I’m no monster.  I won’t fuck you without your consent.”

Keith heard the threat hiding deep within the seemingly kind words.  Yes, the daemon might never touch a finger to his bare skin without his okay, but it also meant Keith would be stripped of his remaining pride by agreeing.  He’d never be able to say he didn’t want it, or deny he ever agreed to this.  He couldn’t imagine the shame this might bring to his reputation, that he was trading sex for a familiar’s services.  Then again, as the daemon managed to manhandle him so easily, twisting his body around so his back was pressed to that bare and glorious chest, Keith found he was caring less and less about his reputation if it meant he got to keep this kind of strength as his own, both magical and physical.

Keith felt the word leave his mouth, hot lips pausing where they had been working over the muscles in his shoulder.

“What was that?” the daemon’s voice was filled with a smugness Keith hated with every fibre of his being, the sound horrible in his ear.  “Say that again.”  His hand palmed at Keith’s crotch again, where his knees were forced apart by the daemon’s own.

“Okay,” Keith gasped out the word.  “You can fuck me.  You can fuck me in exchange for the mana I need as a mage.”

He felt the grin, devious and full of mirth, against his shoulder, a clawed hand finally sinking below his belt and wrapping firmly around his rock, hard penis.  Keith gasped, almost thankful the daemon was wasting no time in taking what they had agreed upon, immediately thrusting into the daemon’s hold and groaning at the heat surrounding his dick.

“Good boy,” came the words, trivial and condescending, but sent shivers down Keith’s spine so good he found his spite for the term sizzling off his skin, especially when that large hand rubbed and rubbed firmly over his cock and balls.  His knees flinched, his chest heaved, and his head was thrown back over the daemon’s shoulder.  “Such a good boy for me.”

Keith panted, his body slouching against the daemon’s grip.  He’d only ever admit it to himself, but it felt irresistibly good to finally give in.  To let the fight seep out of him like hot air from a balloon, leaving nothing but an empty, horny husk to sit back, give up control, and let the daemon do what he willed to Keith’s now giving body.  

As the daemon stripped him of his clothes, and what final dignity may have remained, hot lips and a deep rumble were relaxed against his ear as the daemon spoke. “Shiro.”

Keith gasped, rocking his hips so the cleft of his ass found the daemon’s large cock.  Pre-cum was already splayed across his ass cheeks and his lower back, further degrading him.  Keith found himself only twitching in the daemon’s hold at the knowledge.  “What?”

“My name, and the name you’ll scream as I rip apart this pert little ass of yours,” the daemon, Shiro, explained.  This was accentuated with a smart smack to the globe of Keith’s ass cheek, probably a little harder than it needed to be, but leaving a stinging sensation on Keith’s skin that had him keening for more.  “Oh, you like that?  You needy little whore.”

With nothing in front of him to hold onto, to grip in his hands, Keith had to rely solely on Shiro’s strength to keep him upright, and Shiro didn’t seem to be struggling at all with Keith’s small frame.  Shiro ground hard against Keith, hissing into his ear, laying more harsh but deserving spanks against his ass and thighs.  Keith couldn’t help but gasp and cry, his eyes brimming with tears.  His cock was aching between his spread legs, standing to attention and dripping with his own pre-cum.  He couldn’t find the energy to care, could only seem to think of taking Shiro’s prick between his cheeks and being filled to the core with such a heat.

“Please,” he found the word passing his lips, and would chastise himself later for being so pathetic.  Yet, for now, he couldn’t think of anything past this moment, the feeling growing in his belly.  Hot and unforgiving, coiling in his gut.  Keith had never felt like this, on the rare occasion he ever let himself dabble in trivial matters such as sexual desire, and the feeling was new and exciting. 

It was addicting.

“Hm?  Already?” Shiro was toying with him, slowing his movements, making Keith whine.  “Even the most eager of sluts need preparation, don’t they?”

Keith found himself hissing at the thought of delaying fulfilling that aching need screaming in his core.  He needed to be filled, and he needed to be filled _now._

“Doesn’t m-matter.”  Keith was panting, his chest now flushed red and his nipples aching for attention, almost more so than his dick.  “I’m good at healing spells.  I’ll figure it out later.  Just _get. In. Me.”_

The dark chuckle in his ear only served to send a fresh wave of arousal through his body, rather than turning him off with its rich condescension. 

It was worth it though.  It was entirely worth it when Shiro’s cock finally lined up with his hole and slid effortlessly inside.  It didn’t hurt, either.  Maybe Keith was too turned on, drool spilling from his lips down his chin, white spots igniting in front of his eyes, every feeling in his gut going haywire at his deepest, carnal desire finally being met.  Or maybe Shiro had been kind, and used some of his own inherent abilities to keep Keith from feeling the pain that would surely come from taking someone of his proud girth.

Keith couldn’t think on it for much longer, retched sobs leaving his chest, legs spread as wide as he could get them, back arched as Shiro bottomed out and Keith felt the explosion in his abdomen as he came as hard as was possible over his stomach and the floor.

Now Keith was sobbing for a different reason.

Gasping for breath as Shiro continued to hold him up, Keith felt hot tears of humiliation spill from his eyes and over his cheeks.  The deep chuckle that rumbled through the chest still pressed to his back did little to make him feel better.  Impaled on his familiar’s cock, covered in his own mess on both ends, skin red with humiliation.  Keith wasn’t sure which he hated more; the degrading feeling thrust upon him or how much it utterly turned him on.

“More,” Keith weeped, crying, wanting.

“Satan, you are a needy little whore,” Shiro spoke.  His large hand found its way up Keith’s chest, tweaking his nipples as it passed, and surrounded Keith’s throat in a firm, threatening hold.  “Good thing I’m still hungry.”

With no prior warning, Keith’s entire world was spun around as Shiro bent him over the arm of the loveseat.  The hand on his throat kept him from pitching toward the floor entirely, Keith’s shaking fingers grappling for grip on the worn upholstery.  His over sensitive dick pressed firmly into it, making him cry out from the stimulation.  Shiro didn’t even pause before beginning his ruthless and guttural take of all Keith was worth.

Getting to feel Shiro’s utter strength and determination first hand, his blind focus on the task in front of him, was almost as much of a turn on as the sheer force Shiro was using to drive himself into Keith.  The dominating strength, the will to take what he wants when he wants.  Keith, even through the dicking of his life, was beginning to see the similarities between them, and how this partnership might work out after all.

“Shit, you take it well.”  Shiro’s voice was raspy, wrecked.  Keith took some pride in knowing he wasn’t the only one losing all semblance of self in this arrangement.  “Where have you been all my existence?”

Ignoring the cheesy, somewhat-romantic, pick-up line Shiro had decided to drop during sex, Keith found his second orgasm approaching fast.  Shiro wasn’t having it, using the hand not wrapped around Keith’s airway to lay a fresh wave of pain onto his rump.  Keith gasped, shocked out of cumming too soon, whaling when Shiro did it again.  Keith could feel the stinging hand print forming on his ass, shivering when Shiro lightly trailed his claws over the mark.

“Oh… _ah…ah…f-fuck!”_

Another thrust, aimed particularly well, cut Keith off.  Suddenly all sound was squeezed from his throat, his mind going blank once again.  He wasn’t the only one.  Shiro’s deep groan seeming to echo through where they were connected at the hips, vibrating through Keith’s still body. 

“Take it, you little whore,” Shiro’s words were broken, his own orgasm weighing on his shoulders, fighting for release.  His thrusts became erratic, yet at his size, still managed to hit all of Keith’s sweet spots perfectly.  Keith’s fingers were white where they squeezed the loveseat’s arm, his cock beginning to burn where it was squished into the fabric, pre-cum staining the red of it. 

Then like someone had cracked a whip across his back, Keith came again.  He went rigid and still, his dick managing to squeeze out a new wave of cum despite its placed trapped between his stomach and the loveseat.  His entire body seized, his ass clenching around the intrusion still so solid within him.  Fire, hot and white and molten, exploded in his veins.  Shiro followed almost instantly.  Growling into the crook of Keith’s neck, fangs bared to pink skin.  Something thick filled Keith, pouring from Shiro’s engorged dick into his walls.  Keith tried to flinch away from it, somewhere in his mind still conscious of the mess it would make.  Shiro only kept their hips flushed together, his utter strength making one last, roaring appearance as he finished inside Keith.

The ringing in his ears didn’t dissipate, his entire body numb to the world around him.  Keith didn’t feel as Shiro half collapsed on top of him, or when Shiro pulled his softened prick from his hole and warm, thick cum oozed down his thighs.  He didn’t notice when he was picked from his place where he was still bent over the arm of the loveseat and made to lie down against the cushions instead.  In fact, he must have passed out entirely, because the next thing Keith could comprehend was the rustling of papers and heavy footsteps on stone.

Slowly, Keith blinked awake, his eyes laying first on the broad, bare muscles of Shiro’s back, his large hands holding a book, delicately turning the pages.  Keith recognised it as his family’s spell book.  He tried to sit up, to protest, but the only thing that came out was another embarrassing whine, and without the haze of Shiro’s magic hanging over him, that’s all he felt.  Humiliation.  It wasn’t a turn on this time.

“Someone’s awake,” Shiro stated, turning, book still in hand.  Keith watched as golden eyes stared at the pages.  He imagined if Shiro had pupils, they’d be tracing back and forth across the words the spell book had to offer.

Keith’s voice was heavy in his throat, barely able to push them out, as weak as he felt.  When he shifted, the sting on his ass became apparent, and his legs trembled under the barest of weight he put upon them.  He wouldn’t be moving for some time, it seemed.   “You shouldn’t touch that,” he said. 

“Calm it, witchy, I’m just browsing.  I wouldn’t be able to use any of these spells anyway,” Shiro shut the book nevertheless, placing it carefully amongst the mess of papers and still shattered glass on Keith’s desk.  “You and I wield very different kinds of magic.”

Keith wasn’t sure what to think as Shiro made his way over to where Keith lay, head propped up carefully on a selection of pillows, his body covered in a soft blanket that he remembered having kept upstairs.  Keith wasn’t sure what to think as the daemon gently cupped his face, being careful of his claws as he ran fingers through raven hair.  Keith wasn’t sure what to think of Shiro’s apparent soft side.  “Everything okay?” he asked, golden eyes looking at Keith almost bored, but he could hear the concern laced deep within.

“You didn’t have to go so hard on me the first time,” Keith knew he sounded petulant, like a child given only half of what it wanted.  Shiro met his words with a bark of laughter.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t love every second of it.”

Keith chose to ignore that, embarrassingly true, statement.  Instead, he let Shiro continue to comb through his hair, finding he liked the contrast in this gentle side of the daemon, as opposed to the rude and cocky side he had met before.  The candle light still caused the shadows in the room to dance, and the light reflecting off the amulet still bound to Shiro’s neck winked at him from Shiro’s chest.

“So,” Keith tried to find the right words, looking away from Shiro’s face as he did.  “How often will you need…payment.”  He knew he couldn’t blame the sudden flush on his cheeks on the summer air.  The sun was rising, meaning the coolness of dawn had set upon them.  Keith shivered even, pulling the blanket up over his neck.

“We’re doing this then, are we?” Surprisingly, there was no edge of smugness in Shiro’s tone, just pure curiosity.  “You really want an incubus as your familiar?  You do know this will be like training a wasp to play fetch?”

Keith thought over Shiro’s words, knowing full-well the truth behind them, knowing that this temporary truce they seemed to have would only last so long before the next disagreement would raise its ugly head.  Yet he found, within this temporary truce, flowing between them was a kind of bond and familiarity Keith had felt with no other familiar.  Shiro was stubborn, hot-headed, demanding, focused.  All of the things Keith had that made him a good mage; qualities that would make Shiro a good partner.

Slowly, Keith formed an appropriate response.  He was thankful for Shiro’s patience as he did.  “If you truly adhere to the contract, then I will too.”

There it was.  The out Shiro had wanted earlier.  If he disagreed, Keith would break the binding covenant between them, remove the amulet, and Shiro would be free to return to the realm in which he had been forced from.  Yet when Keith met his eyes, even in the expressionless golden orbs that Shiro had, Keith could see him realising the pros may just outweigh the cons.  That being a ‘mage’s bitch’ might just be beneficial to him after all. 

Not many incubi could say they bedded a mage on a regularly basis, especially ones as powerful as the Kogane line had to offer.

“Alright,” Shiro said, his voice firm, but Keith could see the sneak of a smile creep onto his lips.  His position changed, now looming over Keith as his smile revealed his fangs once again.  “Then get ready to pay me _very_ regularly.”

Keith didn’t hesitate to shove a hand against Shiro’s nose, all fear he might have had before having disappeared now knowing more about Shiro’s nature.

“Don’t be crass!  You wrecked me only hours before!  I need time to recover!”

“What happened to ‘I’m good at healing spells’, huh?  ‘I’ll figure it out’.  Remember?  I just gave you a month’s worth of mana!  Put it to good use.”

“If you think that was a month’s worth of mana, you’re already underestimating me.”

Temporary truce over, even as they bickered through the rising sun and the warming air, Keith found he’d find a way to make this partnership work.  Besides not wanting to lose yet another familiar, that burning bond now formed between them had Keith’s heart fluttering in his chest.  He knew without a doubt, despite Shiro’s dropped kind façade as his hands attempted to rip the blanket from Keith’s still naked form, that Shiro felt it too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @KinkyKeithy on twitter.


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